


The Misdirect

by anonymousorly



Series: Connections are more than accurate passes [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Argentina National Team, Canon Compliant, M/M, Smut, WCQ, messi fucks paulo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 09:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12362637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymousorly/pseuds/anonymousorly
Summary: The first thing Leo says to Paulo is, “Undefended nets too much for ya, huh?”The first thing Paulo says to Leo after the match against Peru is, “Four free kicks too much for ya?”





	The Misdirect

The first thing Leo says to Paulo at La Bombonera is, “Undefended nets too much for ya, huh?”

Paulo doesn't mind sitting out (nor is it unsurprising), chatting with Mauro between handfuls of peanuts and game hollers. He doesn't say anything during the scoreless halftime, though that's partially due to Jorge rambling about missed opportunities and shouting orders to his squad. Leo catches him staring, most times after lifting his jersey to use as a facial towel and expose those deep abdomen lines, and feigns annoyance; he's aware there's a stack of clean towels on the other side of the room.

Before the last free kick in added time…of the match, he looks at the bench and at Paulo. Lined up and waiting for the whistle, he can still make out those dark eyebrows and bright eyes from yards away, which stirs something harsh in his chest. He's looked at Paulo often tonight but gazing now, knowing it's the final chance to score…

He misses and immediately glances over because he's a glutton for punishment and wants to see _his_ reaction…wants to see _him_ … The small smirk is expected, bothersome, arousing, and unfuckingcalled for.

“Four free kicks too much for ya?”

And he wants to strike Paulo because he has a bit of an ego (rightfully so) and hearing the truth is something that comes far and few between. He can't remember the last time his father, agent, family, or assistant said any negative truth.

He practically drags Paulo to his high-rise hotel room, legitimately torn between ravishing the kid until he runs out of air and fucking him so hard his ass stretches to a point that it’s painful. He craves that touch he'd allowed himself to have once too long ago and they frenziedly discard their clothes, limbs knocking and fabric flying in clumsy haste. 

He climbs atop Paulo and secures his face to deeply lick inside his mouth and feel every curve of his lips, his yearning almost intolerable. Fuck, why had he punished himself before?

“Mire isn't this good to you,” his raspy voice hums and Paulo moans quietly around his tongue, shaking his head in agreement.

He slides a hand down Paulo's stomach and teases the base of his cock, scratching lightly through the hirsute hair and burning trail sent to the tip of his erection. Heavy puffs blow out Paulo's forcefully opened mouth, slack jaw sore from Leo’ grip but too needy to complain.

Mildly unsettled and guilty, Paulo quickly breathes out, “He visited me,” no elaboration required.

Of course Leo already knew, felt it while it happened, played the bottom of the table the next day more mercilessly than typical, fucked Gerry’s throat just as ruthlessly afterward. He needn't ask if Neymar was good or not, he had no question: he's better.

As if the words dissolve unheard, Leo resumes kissing him deeply and holding his chin in place firmly. Paulo melts into it easily, like the first time Leo melted into him, and desperately whines into Leo’ mouth, wanting more _Leo_ than what he’s being given, until a small rub circles his wet hole and satisfies his fire. Being acknowledged after years of avoidance, he will shamelessly take for as long as he can.

He sighs blissfully and spreads his legs, inviting Leo's hand to slowly push inside of him. He grinds down and Leo is captivated by the heaving silk chest, taking a nipple between his teeth before manhandling Paulo and flipping him over easily; his dick hardens at the grunt it causes. 

He rubs the tip of his wet cock up and down Paulo’s entrance, then deepens into the hot tightness. His fingertips graze the sides of Paulo's curved spine and grab around his hips, keeping the angle and height how he wants. He commands Paulo to look over his shoulder, flatten his arms, not touch himself, open his eyes.

Paulo shakes and holds in tears, getting pounded so hard that his elbows gradually slip across the mattress to press up against the headboard. Leo barely touches his cock minutes later and he cries, vaguely registering as he's about to orgasm: “We'll visit _him_.”

Considering the only way for that to happen is via qualification, which gets more narrow with every passing day, Paulo doubts that.

They qualify somehow and Paulo is too thrilled to remember those three words; all he knows is that Leo's side belongs to him until further notice.


End file.
